


What's a Little Spying Between Friends?

by Kateera



Series: All In a Summer [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Fluff, M/M, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:51:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: Oswald isn't so sure that Jim wants to be friends and there's only one way to find out, ask him. If only it weren't so terrifying!





	What's a Little Spying Between Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic for the #GobblepotSummer2017 lineup! The prompt was "Tan" and it's in there, I promise.  
> This fic is un-beta'd so if there are any mistakes, they are all mine.   
> Thank you for reading and please, comments give me life and the will to keep writing :D

 

 

 

 

- _ Journal Entry on the 8th of June-  _

 

_ I think I made a friend today. I’ll report more when I have concrete evidence but since he helped me pelt The Brutes with rotten vegetables, I’m optimistic. Mother is doing better today and it’s been ten days since her latest outburst. I think this round of medication might be working. I’ll work for Mr. Gilzean forever if it means she’ll be better. It feels nice to write good things down. _

 

Oswald tucked the small composition book back under his mattress and stared up at the brown patches on his ceiling. The beginning of summer brought anxiety and fear and sleepless nights. Hiding from the kids running wild on the streets, the endless questions from his mother about why his friends never came over, it was enough to give him constant headaches. He couldn’t very well tell her that he didn’t have any friends, not if the birthday party disaster of his ninth year was anything to go on. (His mother is still sure that he simply forgot to give out the invitations.) No, every summer he could look forward to being chased by kids on bikes, thrown into the pool, or pushed outside by his mother when she no longer accepted his desire to hide in his room and read. 

 

_ At least this time, getting beat up came with an upside. _

 

_ Jim. _

 

Oswald wasn’t sure what to think of Jim, his maybe new friend, with his clean cut hair and boyish good looks. No one had ever stood up for him before or joined him in retaliation, no one until Jim. Even if he didn’t want to be his friend, maybe he would be an ally this summer. Pulling out his notebook again, Oswald grabbed his pen.

 

_ Jim. I don’t even know his last name but he helped fend off The Brutes and I think I made him smile once or twice. That’s what friends do right? I need to be sure. I’ll go back to the store tomorrow to gather more evidence. _

 

Satisfied with his plan, Oswald stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes. He pictured a summer full of riding bikes and playing video games and visiting the mall and not being so alone. 

 

*******

 

The grocery store sat next to a small coffee shop with outdoor seating and Oswald lounged on one of the rickety chairs while he waited for Jim to arrive at work. He cupped the smallest size tea they had in his hands, having grabbed a couple bills from his mom’s purse to afford his stakeout, and took little sips whenever someone behind the counter looked his way. Halfway through his drink, Jim showed up on a bike with his shirt tucked into his jeans pocket, the bright colored cloth waving behind him like a flag. Oswald almost dropped his cup. Ducking behind one of huge blue umbrellas of the coffee shop, he watched Jim park his bike and lock it up in front of the store. Every inch of exposed skin glowed with a healthy tan and Oswald watched beads of sweat drip down Jim’s back. He couldn’t stop staring. Gulping down the rest of his drink, he threw the paper cup in the recycle bin and moved to intercept Jim. 

 

_ What do I say? Want to be my friend? How pathetic is that? Maybe thank him again, for yesterday, and exchange last names? _

 

Before his brain could figure out what he wanted to say, Oswald lost sight of Jim. Cursing his insecurity, he ran toward the door of Foster’s Grocery and slipped into the air conditioned building. The cold felt good on his skin and he paused at the doorway to soak it in. A woman bumped into him from behind, glaring at him as he skittered forward and out of the way. 

 

“Fucking summer,” she muttered as she passed. “Brings out all the lazy freaks.”

 

Oswald clenched his fists and took a deep breath.  Resisting the urge to smash a cart into her ankles (he didn’t want to get kicked out before he talked to Jim) he closed his eyes and pictured her falling flat on her face.  With his temper under control, he scanned the aisles and tried not to look like the shoplifting type (a remarkable feat on its own as he’d stolen a new toothbrush from the store about three weeks ago). His search ended in the baking section. Jim was stacking cake mixes on the shelves and humming under his breath. At the sight of him, Oswald panicked at the thought of being rejected. He hid behind a batteries display and peeked through the holes in the cardboard.

 

_ What do heck I say? _

 

“Hey, you! What are you hiding?”

 

A large man wearing a green apron grabbed Oswald by the arm and dragged him away from the batteries. “You stealing from me? I’m calling the cops this time, you hear?”

 

Oswald blanched and struggled in the man’s arms. “I didn’t take anything, I swear. Let me go!”

 

“Mr. Foster, it’s alright. He’s with me.”

 

Oswald stopped struggling at the sound of Jim’s voice and Mr. Foster let him go with a grumble. Straightening his shirt, Oswald glared up at Mr. Foster who ignored him for Jim.

 

“I see a single thing missing, it’s coming out of your paycheck,” Mr. Foster warned. “And don’t go fussing to Marie either. I gave you this job, not her.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Foster,” Jim said with his head bowed. 

 

Oswald pinched his lips together and glared at the retreating shopkeeper until he was alone in the aisle with Jim. When he turned around, Oswald found Jim staring at him in confusion.

 

“Thanks,” Oswald said, rubbing his arm where Mr. Foster had grabbed him.

 

Jim shrugged. “Sure. He’s more bark than bite anyway. What are you doing here?”

 

“Well, I thought, I mean, it’s just that yesterday you were, um.” Oswald coughed and shuffled on his feet. “You helped me and I wanted to say...thank you.”

 

Oswald wished for the floor to swallow him up as Jim stared at him with a perplexed expression.

 

“You said thank you already,” he said, wiping his hands on his apron and frowning.

 

Oswald put his hands over his face and mumbled. “No one’s helped before. I thought…”

 

“What?” Jim leaned closer and Oswald raised his head from his hands and took a deep breath.

 

“You helped and I thought I’d ask if you wanted, to be, friends.” He couldn’t look up while he spoke and his insides clenched with the expecting rejection.

 

A hand fell on his shoulder and Oswald flinched but the hand didn’t push him down. He looked up into Jim’s face and found a smile.

 

“Sure, I mean, we threw rotten tomatoes at Dan Buckley, the linebacker for our own football team. That bonds people for life.” 

 

Oswald returned the smile with one of his own, his heart pounding in joy, and grasped Jim’s hand. “You can count on me then, if he needs round two.”

 

Jim laughed and pulled away. “I’ll remember that.”

 

“Cobblepot!” Oswald blurted.

 

“Um, bless you?”

 

Oswald giggled and shook his head. “No, what I meant was, I’m Oswald Cobblepot. I thought if we were to be friends, proper introductions were in order.”

 

Jim grinned as he held out his hand and Oswald took it eagerly.

 

“I’m James Gordon. My friends call me Jim and no one calls me Jimmy.”

 

“Got it,” Oswald said with an enthusiastic nod. “Jim it is.”

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jim pointed behind him to the stack of boxes. “Well, I have to um, get back to work. But I’ll see you around.”

 

Oswald grinned wide and nodded again, shuffling backwards as he waved. “Sure, yes, I mean. See you around Jim.”

 

Narrowly avoiding the battery display, Oswald wrapped his arms around himself and bounced in place once Jim could no longer see him. 

 

_ I have a friend and he’s perfect. Maybe this summer really will be different.  _

 

His mind raced with what they could do over the summer and how his mother could finally stop pestering him and he even held the door open for the same woman who bumped into him earlier. She gave him a strange smile and patted his arm as she passed, making it easy to swipe the package of Oreo's off the top of her groceries. Tucking the box into his shirt (no one would claim they were missing if they were already paid for), Oswald headed home. 


End file.
